Seen As Hero And Villain

Intense Shuch Seen As Both Hero, Villain

Frank M. Shuch was motivated by an intense drive for success and respect, say people who knew him well. And Colonial Realty Co.'s plunge into bankruptcy had robbed him quickly of both.

Friends and associates said they don't know why the 40-year-old accountant, Colonial's former chief financial officer, would have killed himself Tuesday night.

But they do say his indictment by a federal grand jury weighed heavily on him. Faced with charges he stole more than $6 million, he feared conviction would mean 10 years or more in prison, associates said. Maximum penalties on the charges would have been life in prison and $24 million in fines.

His hopes were pinned to negotiations with federal authorities over a plea bargain, but those negotiations were not going well, say sources.

"I think Frank wanted to spare his family a long, drawn out affair in court and felt that this was the best way he could provide for his family," said William P. Candelori, a partner in several Colonial real estate ventures who worked with Shuch for more than 10 years.

"He loved his daughters and wife very much," said Candelori of New Britain. "He must have felt he was doing the right thing."

In the drama that is the Colonial Realty story, Shuch is viewed as both a hero and a villain. A brilliant accountant, he is credited with helping make the company the largest real estate firm in the state. But, others, including creditors and his former partners, say his financial chicanery helped lead to its demise.

For Shuch, however, the quick change from a respected business success to an outcast caused great pain.

In the only interview he granted after his arrest, he told Courant Staff Writer Patricia Weiss in December, "The collapse of Colonial Realty became my collapse, my family's collapse; five or six thousand limited partners stand to lose hundreds of millions of dollars. There's not much to laugh about anymore."

In the 10-hour interview, requested for an upcoming Northeast magazine story on Colonial, he also said, "When Colonial collapsed, most of my 1980s friends collapsed as well. I call them my `ticket

friends.' They made believe they wanted to be my friends, but what they really wanted were tickets."

He said these people would call for favors, both small and large, from wanting Whalers seats or concert tickets to hoping to land a lucrative contract for Colonial work.

Shuch said someone once called to say his family was taking a trip and needed to park at John F. Kennedy Airport in New York for a few days. He knew Colonial owned a hotel at the airport, and wondered if Shuch could arrange for them to park there for free, Shuch said.

Whether it was for $15 worth of parking at Kennedy airport, or a $300,000 job, "People just weren't afraid to ask for things," he said.

But, Shuch said, once he was arrested and Colonial went into bankruptcy, those friends disappeared.

"Most of them I haven't heard from in the last 16 months. They're only there for as long as you have something to give them.

"I found out I had two kinds of friends -- my real friends and my ticket friends. In retrospect, I was being used by those people."

But, Shuch said his wife, Nancy, "should be knighted. She's stood right there with me."

He said he and his wife enjoyed going to their condominium in Boca Raton, Fla., partly because there they did not feel the strain of living in a fishbowl. In Connecticut, he said, it was common for people to stare at them when they went into a restaurant.

"I get a lot of that -- the heads bobbing, the heads turning, and the whispering as I walk in. When I get to Florida, nobody knows me," he said.

Shuch said he was an intense man, someone who could be tough to work for.

Colonial was a high-pressure organization, Shuch said, "and things had to be done in a certain way, with a certain deadline, and I was not able to accept things not being done when they were supposed to be done."

"I was a screamer. I never physically pushed somebody down a flight of stairs. But five minutes later, I wasn't screaming anymore," he said.

Not only did he scream at secretaries, he screamed at lawyers, accountants and other professionals who worked with Colonial.

Besides being known as someone who raved when he was upset, Shuch was also known at Colonial for having some unusual traits.

For instance, several Colonial sources have said that Shuch did not like the idea of putting his garbage in front of his home. Instead, they said, Shuch would put it inside the trunk of his car and drive his garbage to work.

Once he arrived at Colonial headquarters on Kane Street in West Hartford, Shuch had his garbage taken out and put into a Colonial dumpster. At times, sources said, Shuch would actually watch to make sure that the garbage was spread around the dumpster so no one could distinguish his garbage from that of others.